


Pieces

by TiggyMalvern



Series: Interludes [2]
Category: Trigun
Genre: Canon - Manga, M/M, trigun maximum 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-11-02 01:07:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20569946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiggyMalvern/pseuds/TiggyMalvern
Summary: On board the flying ship, after Wolfwood rescues Vash from Knives, there's just a short amount of time after one crisis and before another.





	Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> When this was written early in 2004, I hadn’t seen some of the later volumes of the manga. As a result, this is mildly AU in some of the details.  
A few lines of dialogue are taken directly from the Japanese manga. Apologies to Naito Yasuhiro for any liberties taken in my dodgy translation.  
Beta thanks to Renet, Sasha and another who wishes to remain anonymous.  
If you don’t like it, you can blame Kasianne. I wasn’t going to write a sequel until she started prodding me!

The blanket lay warm and heavy round his shoulders, itching slightly at the back of his neck. The cushion of the chair was soft beneath him, shaped pleasantly to his butt and thighs. The mug warm in his hand, the smell of coffee overwhelming, and he almost felt normal. Almost felt human. 

Vash opened his eyes, staring into the dark liquid beneath his nose, still trying to think his way around what he’d been told. He’d had no sense of time in that place, the endless mental battle with Legato taking every drop of concentration. Always probing, feinting, burrowing at the will that countered his, and knowing that he only had to find it, that there had to be a way out, because he was a Plant and Legato was…

‘Only a human,’ Knives’ voice giggled in his head.

And just as he thought he was getting somewhere, just as he found the chink in the near-flawless wall that surrounded him, it would crush inwards, unflinching. And when he awoke, it could have been hours or days, and Legato sat and watched, and the cycle began again. Defeat over and over, every time just as he thought he could finally escape his mental and physical prisons.

Seven months. In that time, Knives had devastated nearly a quarter of the planet, power shutting down and whole regions becoming unbroken desert, refugees overwhelming the capacity of the remaining Plants. The misery and violence of Planetfall recreated outside now, and he just sat here and watched his coffee cool.

And Wolfwood… god, Wolfwood. 

Oh, the man had told his lies and kept his secrets, but then so did everyone, few people more than Vash himself. Maybe he should have seen it. Maybe there’d been something just a bit too smooth in the way Wolfwood had wriggled into his life and stuck there. 

And maybe he hadn’t wanted to see it. Vash sipped at his coffee, mug hot at his lips and the strong taste harsh in his throat. 

It really didn’t matter what Wolfwood had been. Even as he’d started to piece it all together, even as he’d heard some of the details, he’d known that. Two years ago, maybe even a year ago, it would have mattered, but not now. But he couldn’t help wondering just when it had changed, how much had been the act that had suckered him. Picking through the moments of friendship in his brain, trying to decide which were real and just how badly he’d misplaced his trust.

Except he hadn’t.

He wondered how Wolfwood was doing, but he didn’t ask. The medics had their jobs to do, and hanging around by people’s bedsides stank of desperation. 

He wasn’t desperate. Not any more.

Desperate was sitting in the desert night and knowing he was going to watch Wolfwood die.

If Wolfwood had been anything other than who and what he was, he’d be dead. With those injuries and unprotected in the freezing night, he should have died. Vash could really only be grateful for Wolfwood’s background right now, whatever else it meant about the man.

But then if he’d been anyone else, he wouldn’t have been there in the first place, dragged into Vash’s private war with his brother.

And then Vash would still be sitting in his prison on the Ark, because nobody else would have come for him.

He shook his head, trying to clear his brain of the clutter, the tangle of ifs and whys impossible to deal with. Wolfwood had stuck around, whatever the reasons were, and Vash couldn’t bring himself to regret it. 

Except when he’d thought it would cost Wolfwood his life….

He really should be thinking about Knives. But that was far harder to work through. He’d tried and he’d failed, and he didn’t know what more he could do, but he was going to have to do something. Sitting here drinking coffee wasn’t going to give him any answers, appealing as it was to just let it all slide for a while.

The door opened behind him with a characteristic soft hiss and he shifted around to see who it was.

“Wolfwood!” He jumped to his feet, spilling coffee over his fingers, luckily cooled enough not to be painful. He put the mug on the table and shook his hand, coffee droplets flying everywhere. Wolfwood slouched against the doorway, clutching a blanket tightly around him over his clothes.

God. He wanted to rush over there and grab Wolfwood and hug him for about the next ten days, but that would be a lousy thing to do to a friend with bullet wounds in his gut. So he settled for standing close, his hand on Wolfwood’s shoulder, grinning delightedly at him. “It’s good to see you!”

Good to see him not lying slouched against a wall, splattered with too much of his own blood. Good to see him not white and unconscious beneath the moons, waking only to take something no ethical doctor would have prescribed.

“Yeah. You too.” Wolfwood’s lips curved at the edges, but it was a poor attempt at a smile really. Scratchy shift of the blanket beneath his hand as Wolfwood settled more of his weight against the wall.

“They let you out for the meeting, huh?”

His lips twisted a little more. “Pretty much.” Meaning Wolfwood had done a runner practically the second he was conscious. Right. That would explain why he was roaming around the ship looking only slightly better than when they’d dragged him in.

He also stank of cigarettes, nearly drowning out the disinfectant smell that clung to surgical patients. Vash grinned wider. If he’d been smoking in the hospital unit, Luida would strangle him when she saw him.

Wolfwood’s eyes flicked sideways, avoiding his gaze. “They filled you in yet?”

And there it was again, the instant mood killer. His hand dropped away from Wolfwood and reached for his coffee. “Yeah.” He was still almost wishing they hadn’t, that they could have left him just a few hours without having to think so hard.

Wolfwood’s eyes were back on his, thoughtful. “They don’t blame you, Tongari.”

“I know.” But then they didn’t have anyone else to rely on, did they? Failure that he was, he was still the best shot they had. “They’re hoping I can give them something to go on.”

“And you can’t.” It wasn’t a question, so Vash didn’t answer. “You gonna tell ‘em that?”

“They’re going to ask.”

“Yeah.” Wolfwood was still watching him, something careful in his expression.

Voices came from along the corridor, the door staying open while Wolfwood leaned against the frame. He pushed himself away from the wall, hunched as he clutched the blanket together at his throat. “I’m gonna grab a seat before they show up.”

Wolfwood made his way across to one of the sofas and curled along the length of it, wrapped in his blanket, his head resting on the arm. He looked… he looked haggard and more than a bit rough, actually. But he was still Wolfwood, and Vash wanted to follow him over there and slide his fingers along the stubble of his jaw. Wanted to touch smooth skin and remind himself of how it felt against him. Wanted to suck his way along Wolfwood’s collarbone and down, to run his hand over tight muscle and feel Wolfwood’s body react to his own….

Wolfwood probably wanted sex right now about as much as he wanted another bullet in the gut. Vash figured ruefully it was time his cock learned a bit of sympathy, and returned to his own seat, swallowing more of his coffee.

The door opened again as the first group of chattering people arrived. Wolfwood stayed sprawled across the sofa as people started to file in, almost hidden under the blanket, and that more than anything told Vash just how bad he was really feeling. 

Brad gave them the latest rundown on the Ark’s activities - all the firepower the humans had thrown at him had finally slowed Knives a little, and the light from the other Plants had visibly dimmed.

There was something weird going on there, something he’d felt in that instant when Knives had touched him. Knives was losing something from himself, risking being swallowed inside the Plant gestalt he was creating.

And maybe there was a way to use that, if only he could figure it out. Maybe there was a weakness there that the additional power of the other Plants couldn’t defend against. Maybe….

He wondered whether Legato was still alive. That would make a difference to any plan he considered. If there was one thing he knew now for certain, it was that he couldn’t beat Legato. Not alone. 

Most likely he was dead. Wolfwood was still here, and it was hard to see a way that both men could have survived that confrontation. But then Wolfwood hadn’t survived by much, so…. 

He’d ask him about it later.

He looked over at Wolfwood’s huddled shape, dark hair and shockingly white face resting on the sofa arm. He wasn’t taking much obvious notice of the meeting at all, stirring once to ask for the latest information on where Knives was headed and then burying himself deeper under the blanket.

He’d ask him about it tomorrow. Yeah.

And then Brad interrupted his thoughts with his final bombshell. The ships from Earth were going to get here sooner than they’d thought. If he hadn’t dealt with Knives by the time they arrived, his brother would destroy them all.

His timescale just got shorter.

Shit.

He looked down at his mug. He was out of coffee now too.

That was pretty much the end of the meeting. Nobody had any bright ideas, and the mood wasn’t great. People drifted off in small groups, subdued conversations he only caught snatches of and didn’t really want to hear more. Vash cornered Brad before he left. “Listen, you think we can make a quick detour? There’s a guy I really need to go and see.”

Brad agreed right off, no questions other than exactly where they were going. Which was almost depressing, the way everyone just assumed he’d figure something out, when he couldn’t even be sure this visit wasn’t going to be a waste of time.

Part of his attention was always still on Wolfwood across the room, aware instantly as the man shifted and got to his feet. Everything about him was completely wrong as he walked over to Vash.

“I’m gonna go crash for a while.” 

“Back with the medics?” Keeping his voice light, not wanting to push, needing to know where he’d be.

“For now. They set a guard on me.” He nodded towards a tall man watching from the corner, nurse’s insignia on his shirt. “Wake me when we get there, okay? I don’t trust the damn babysitter to do as he’s told.”

“Sure thing,” Vash said with a smile, and Wolfwood headed for the door, his movements stilted and unnatural.

“Wolfwood?”

He halted in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.” All the sincerity he could ever give it and still nothing like enough.

Wolfwood’s grin this time was a bit more characteristic. “I’ll be collecting some time, Tongari.”

As Wolfwood turned and moved out of sight, Vash resisted the temptation to follow him, to stay with him, because nothing was going to happen to him just because Vash wasn’t around. It would be stupid after all this time to start feeling over-protective of Wolfwood. 

Not to mention painful, he admitted with a half-smile. Wolfwood would just hit him until he quit.

Yeah, he was being an idiot, he told himself as he peered round the doorway to watch Wolfwood’s progress down the corridor. 

And still it nagged in his gut to let him walk away.

*****

The ship landed a little way from Marlon’s old place, kicking up the inevitable dust clouds in its wake. Vash leaped out almost before the ship was fully settled, running past the few people who’d gathered to stare and listening hopefully at the door of the wooden house. Nothing but silence inside.

And then a figure was approaching from round the back, obscured by blowing sand and the glare of low suns. A figure with familiar disordered curls that gradually resolved into – “Marlon!” He was still here, despite all the chaos, and Vash was suddenly almost giddy with the relief of it, a heady spike of joy way out of proportion to the fate of one man. Something was finally going his way for the first time in so long, and maybe, maybe there’d still be some way he could fix it all….

“Hey, hey, so the wanderer’s really still alive, huh?”

Vash couldn’t resist wrapping him in a quick hug, nearly losing his blanket in the process. “That’s my line! You’re okay!”

“Somehow, yeah,” Marlon grinned as Vash released him. “You know a good lot of the folk in this town have upped and left.”

“I thought as much.” The arrival of the attack ship hadn’t drawn as big a crowd as they’d normally get in a town this size. “I wasn’t even sure you’d still be here.”

“Me? Where else would I go?” he asked with a chuckle. “And besides, I got my orders.”

“What orders?”

“Well, you know how it is. When you’re not making much of a living, you’ll take what you can get.” Marlon made a face. “I figured there’d be no more trade for me around here with everybody leaving. I’d accepted my fate and was fixing up my supper when this real rude customer showed up. Demanded I make one more gun. I told the stupid fool that guy would be dead already, the way things are these days, but some folk just don’t listen.” Marlon was fishing around inside his coat as he spoke, Vash watching curiously. “Well, as it turns out, the girl’s scheme was right on. Catch!”

Vash reached out instinctively to grab hold of a very familiar-shaped object wrapped in canvas. He stared at it in surprise, shifting the weight of it in his hand. ‘The girl’….

Meryl. And Meryl at her pushiest by the sounds of things, he thought with a grin. Marlon hadn’t stood a chance.

He looked down at the gun he held and hoped this meant she’d forgiven him. He’d never meant to scare her, or to hurt her, but he’d done both. All she’d ever done was try to be a friend. 

He looked across at Wolfwood, now sitting hunched on the verandah, blanket pulled tight around his shoulders over his clothes, obviously feeling the cold far more than he usually did. He’d scared Wolfwood too, and Wolfwood had stuck around. But was that because he wanted to or because he had to? It had to be because he wanted to, didn’t it? It was too recent to be anything else….

He wouldn’t ask. It might be worse to know for sure how many of his memories his friend were corrupt.

He just wanted Wolfwood around. 

Movement close to Wolfwood, too close, Vash’s body tensing instantly. Relaxing again as his focus shifted and he saw it was only Marlon, attracted by the twisted remains of the cross-gun propped against the wall of the house. Marlon looked it over with a practiced eye, his words carrying easily on the still air. “Hey, should I do this one too?”

Wolfwood dragged hard on his cigarette. “Can you?”

Marlon bristled visibly at the insult to his professional pride. “You goddamn idiot, you should know who I am! Two days and I’ll fix it so you won’t recognise it, you’ll see.”

Vash waited for Wolfwood to explode at the insult, but he just blew smoke down his nose and said nothing. If he reacted at all, it was hidden behind the sunglasses. So oddly unlike Wolfwood. But Vash couldn’t help smiling anyway, because the thought of Wolfwood without that damn gun of his was way beyond strange.

It was all coming back together. Yeah. Maybe….

Marlon took the pistol that Wolfwood offered him and reached out to lift the punisher, making a face as it scraped noisily along the wood of his house. “Want a hand there?” Vash called out, grinning widely. Marlon just gave him a sour look. 

Vash bounded over and hoisted the thing onto his shoulder, the trailing magazine rattling along the floor behind him as he carried it into the workroom. Marlon followed him in, checking the gun over again once it was settled along his table. “I don’t know where you find ‘em, Lightning, but you sure do collect the weirdos,” he commented finally.

“Must be a natural talent, I think,” Vash agreed in entirely good humour. “You really can fix it in two days?”

Marlon threw him a mock-glare. “Don’t you start on me now. It’s a bit bigger than the usual, but the mechanics are the same.”

“You need anything from the ship? Not just for work, I mean, anything?”

“Nah. But thanks for the offer.” Marlon winked at him. “You know me, I get by. Besides, a whole lot of stuff got left behind when folks headed out. You just drop by again in a couple of days and get this cannon off my hands. Damn thing takes up all my work space.”

Vash gave an exaggerated pout. “You’re kicking me out already?”

“Well normally I’d offer you a drink, but not to cause offence, Lightning, but you look like shit. And so does he.” He nodded his head towards the front of the house.

Vash looked down at himself, still wearing a blanket instead of a shirt, and those fluffy slippers on his feet – and just where had they come from, anyway?

“Ah.” He looked up at Marlon with a lop-sided smile. 

“And yeah, I have seen you dressed better, now that you mention it,” Marlon added dryly. “Now get the hell out of here and leave me to work in peace.”

“Okay, okay, I’m gone!” He threw one last huge grin over his shoulder as he headed for the door, Marlon waving a hand at him vaguely, already stooped over and poking around inside the punisher.

He blinked in the sunlight as he walked back out onto the verandah, the wood creaking distinctively. Wolfwood hadn’t moved, still sat staring out across the sand, ash drooping from what was left of the cigarette at his lips. 

He finally tipped his head slightly towards Vash, watching from behind the sunglasses. “You done?”

“Been evicted,” he said cheerfully. “Marlon wants me out of his hair.”

And again no response to the obvious opening. Vash kept his smile in place and took a step forward, looking across towards the waiting ship. Held his hand out towards Wolfwood, slightly behind him, making it a casual gesture. After a moment, Wolfwood squashed his cigarette into the deck and took it, hauling himself to his feet, his grip tight. Vash wondered how long it was normal for a guy who’d been shot to hang onto another guy, because maybe Wolfwood held on just a bit longer than that before his fingers trailed across Vash’s as he let go. Dry, callused fingers that really shouldn’t feel as good as they did, except Vash could remember exactly how Wolfwood used those fingers along with his mouth to push him so damn high.

Maybe he was just way too horny.

Wolfwood leaned against the wall of the house, fishing through his pockets for cigarette and matches and lighting another. Something not quite natural in the way he stood, point of his shoulder pressed into the wood. 

Another few moments and he straightened up, pushed off from the house and headed out towards the ship. Vash fell into step beside him, smiling broadly. “Hey, did you catch all that? Meryl was here, you know, bullied Marlon into making another gun in case I needed it. Look!” Waving the still-wrapped revolver at Wolfwood, chattering on happily and noticing how Wolfwood limped slightly on his left leg, how he was breathing faster past the cigarette clamped between his lips. Vash shortened his strides a little, effectively slowing the pace, careful balance in not being too obvious about it. Even so, barely half way back to the ship and he felt a weight against his arm as Wolfwood leaned into him. 

He shoved the gun into the waistband of his trousers.

“So I thought we could hook up with the girls again for a while, maybe get Milly drunk, you know how she gets….” He grinned widely at Wolfwood and slapped him lightly on the shoulder. Left his hand where it was, and yeah, a few moments later he was supporting Wolfwood a little more, the give in the left leg more obvious. His senses tuned entirely into Wolfwood, the slight hiss as he sucked in air, the rigid tension in the muscles of his back. “I wonder if Meryl ever got that promotion she kept expecting – they must have dragged her back into the office once or twice by now.”

The pressure of Wolfwood along his side. The smell of him. Less of the antiseptic stench now beneath the cigarettes, more of the desert air and sweat. Desire threading along his nerves with the memories of hands on his body and hot breath on his skin, of Wolfwood on cheap hotel sheets and hard hotel floors.

He didn’t just want Wolfwood around. He wanted a hell of a lot more than that. Wanted him whole and in his bed. He wondered how long it would be before Wolfwood recovered from this, just how fast was healing fast anyway -

And then his flow of chatter stopped abruptly as the thought hit him like a rifle round.

He’d screwed around with Wolfwood for three weeks, more or less, and then he’d disappeared for seven months. It was one hell of an assumption that Wolfwood would want to pick things right back up where they’d left off. There’d been more than enough time for him to find someone else to fuck. 

It was such a blindingly obvious possibility, he wondered how he’d managed not to think of it till now.

Except he didn’t like the thought much, and he didn’t like the nasty sensation it sent crawling through his gut.

Wolfwood stumbled at his side, suddenly leaning into him more heavily, and Vash realised he’d stopped walking and surprised him. Wolfwood looked at him with curiosity, but said nothing, and Vash just grinned at him. “Sorry, too much thinking. You always said it was bad for me.” He looked away and started moving, pushing the notion aside.

There wasn’t anything to do about it either way right now. Wolfwood would make it obvious soon enough if he was still interested.

He tried to ignore the weight against his arm, the man breathing beside him, the muscle shifting beneath his hand. Tried to ignore the way his fingers tightened against Wolfwood’s shoulder as something unpleasant coiled inside him.

It was suddenly one hell of a long way back to the ship.

*****

The two days went by fast.

Brad and his crew took them back to the main ship. More people, more pointless discussion that came to nothing, just the latest updates on which towns Knives had attacked. Brad only hung around a few hours while the mobile unit was resupplied, and then left again, back to gathering information in the hope of finding a real weakness. Ever since Knives destroyed the satellite comms, the only way to get the details was to go and look.

Vash was given a replacement gun arm, and a new holster for Marlon’s pistol. The arm felt pretty good – they were getting lighter over the years with the development of new composites, and the function was as good as ever once his muscles adjusted to the slightly different circuitry.

It was nice just to have a chance to sleep. Really sleep, instead of blanking out because someone had screwed with his brain. He had dreams again. They weren’t good dreams, but at least they were his, because his mind was entirely his own.

It was good to swap the damn blanket and slippers for some real clothes.

Wolfwood was incredible to see. After twenty-four hours he was – not right, but you had to be watching. He strolled around the ship looking natural enough on the surface, though his strides weren’t so long and he held his back rigid instead of slouching the way he usually did when he wasn’t hauling that damn cross around. By the second day, Vash thought he was the only one who knew Wolfwood well enough to spot the hesitations in the way he moved. 

He was used to something similar in his own body, but to see it in a human was… astonishing. It gave him some sense of just how odd he could sometimes seem to other people.

He’d missed it the last time. He’d woken up in the hospital to find Wolfwood unconscious and bandaged beside him, and when Wolfwood bounced back fast, he’d figured it must have looked worse than it was. But even then, it hadn’t been like this. Then there’d been a day or so with Wolfwood dragging a drip around behind him when he refused to stay put in bed. This was on a different scale entirely. And he was back to wondering exactly what was in that vial of Wolfwood’s.

It had kept him alive, but if it was such a miracle drug then everybody would want it, and somebody would be getting rich. He knew the medics here had nothing like it. 

There was a downside to it somewhere, and a big one.

Wolfwood had said he aged faster than normal, and when he thought about the differences between Wolfwood now and the guy he’d met on the bus four years ago - some of those extra lines would be down to the suns and some of them would be the smoking, but…. 

He didn’t like thinking about that too much. 

He didn’t want to think about anything else either. 

More questions he was avoiding asking. His life had been full of those ever since he’d met Wolfwood. He hadn’t asked about the gun, about all the ways he was different. He’d asked a couple of times how Wolfwood knew about Knives, and then he’d let it drop when Wolfwood didn’t answer.

He wondered what he would have done if Wolfwood had told him the truth back then. Oh, he’d known all along that plenty of things about Wolfwood added up badly, but being Vash the Stampede made him inclined to judge people on what he saw and not on what they might have done. Could he have trusted him? Or would he have bailed?

He couldn’t answer that. It was impossible to separate what he knew of Wolfwood’s loyalty and friendship now from how he’d felt about Wolfwood back when he first found him again. 

But the not knowing was really the only answer he needed. He’d stick with his instincts and not ask the questions where he might not like the answers.

He acted like the Vash everyone expected. He slept. And he watched Wolfwood.

*****

They took the cable transport down to the planet surface and drove out to Marlon’s place, where Wolfwood’s weapons gleamed on the work bench.

From the corner of his eye Vash watched Wolfwood systematically checking over the .45, stripping it down and examining it, reassembling and sliding the clip home. Then the same routine with the machine gun in the punisher, and by the time he moved onto the heavy weaponry the strip-down was just habit, the check more casual. Vash smiled slightly – he knew the standard of Marlon’s work well enough by now.

Wolfwood slid the last cover panel back in place and looked across at Marlon. “Test range?”

Marlon opened the door behind him. “Everything but the launcher,” he said dryly. “You wanna test that, you go find yourself a rock out in the desert.”

Vash followed Wolfwood outside to the fenced off area of dirt and natural rock wall that Marlon used as a range and set up his own target to try out the new revolver.

There were no ear plugs out here, but Vash’s ears adjusted automatically to the level of ambient sound. Which was lucky, because if anything, the new gun seemed to be even louder than the last one. He wondered that Wolfwood wasn’t half deaf after all these years, but he guessed that was just another one of those things about the guy. He hadn’t gone into too much detail about what had been done to him. Vash figured it hadn’t been fun. 

The kick on the gun was a little lighter than the old one, and it took a few rounds before he stopped overcompensating on the following shot, and got the bullets passing perfectly through the same hole.

Wolfwood fired off a few dozen rounds from the .45, then holstered it and moved on to the punisher. And there the difference in his movement still showed; he swung the thing around fast enough, but it wasn’t so effortless, more tension obvious in his stance as he braced against the weight and the recoil. Not that it hurt his accuracy, the centre of the cheap target ripped out by the first short burst. 

Wolfwood stuck the end of the cross into the dirt – Vash still cringed every time he saw him do that, it was such a lousy way to treat a gun – and adjusted the trigger tension. He hoisted the barrel back up and focussed a longer burst directly onto the rock wall, drilling a deepening crater into the surface as casings ejected around him, reflecting a hundred suns.

Really, the man had no style. Vash grinned, rolled up the sleeve of his sweater and flipped open his gun arm, Wolfwood turning to look at the sound. He directed his fire at the same bit of rock, aiming the stream of bullets with deliberate precision until he’d drawn a surprised-looking face with big ears and the hole Wolfwood had blasted as the mouth.

The effect was almost ruined because the first five bullets had wandered before he adjusted to the new weapon’s tendencies, and the picture had one very crooked eyebrow that straggled up into its hair. Vash made a face and Wolfwood stood with one arm draped along the upright cross, laughing at him, relaxed and so good to see. “Damn, Tongari, you better get some practice before you start showing off in public again!”

“I’d like to see you do better!” he complained, completely failing to sound offended despite his best efforts, because that grin of Wolfwood’s had been so obviously missing the last couple of days.

And then he looked again at the naturally possessive hold Wolfwood had on his killing machine, and his own smile was suddenly not so easy to keep in place.

Wolfwood’s grin became more calculating. “Okay, I’ll show you.” He lifted the punisher towards the rock again and a flurry of gunfire gave Vash’s figure a wide-brimmed hat at a jaunty angle.

“Too easy!” Vash protested automatically, noticing the tightness in Wolfwood’s jaw as he lowered the barrel and shifted his stance again. He raised his arm once more, but limited himself to adding a simple feather to Wolfwood’s hat, and then called a halt to the game on the grounds of wasting ammo. It wasn’t too much of a lie, anyway – his gun arm only held a few mags without the supply from the coat.

Wolfwood lit what must have been his twentieth cigarette of the day, one elbow resting on the bar of the cross as he replaced his matches in his pocket. Vash wrinkled his nose slightly. Wolfwood was definitely smoking more. 

It was probably the inactivity. He always had gone through them faster on the quiet days. Not even Wolfwood could justify smoking while running like hell, no matter how keen he was to poison his lungs the rest of the time. 

Wolfwood looked over towards the house. “I can’t pay him.”

Vash grinned. “That good, is it?”

“Good enough.” 

When it came to that damn gun, not many things were good enough for Wolfwood. “Told you,” Vash said, deliberately smug. “And don’t worry about paying, he was never too good at taking my money anyway.”

Wolfwood’s forehead creased, smoke streaming past his lips. “You rip him off?”

“No!” Vash looked away from Wolfwood’s lips. “Brad knows to look in on him, he’ll get anything he wants.”

“Good,” Wolfwood said, obviously mollified. Vash continued to stare, still surprised at the times Wolfwood picked to get a dose of the morals. Marlon must have really impressed him.

Wolfwood flicked his cigarette into the sand and picked up the cross, his spine just a bit too rigid as he walked back towards the house.

They found Marlon out front on the verandah, sitting in the shade. He looked up at Wolfwood with a grin. “What did I tell ya?”

“Yeah,” Wolfwood said. “It’s a good job. Thanks.” He shook the hand Marlon offered him, then walked back to the car and slung the cross into the back seat.

Marlon stared after him, then peered up at Vash, curious. “Is he like you, then?”

Vash’s eyes flicked back to Wolfwood, leaning against the car, sunglasses firmly in place. If only. “No. Not really.” But damn, sometimes…. He turned back to Marlon, smiling. “He’s something else.”

Marlon waved a hand at him. “Okay, okay, I get it, stop asking questions, Marlon.”

“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind, but….” Vash trailed off.

“Better not to know, huh?”

“Most of the time.” He smiled at him a little sadly.

“Fair enough.” Marlon looked back to the car, where Wolfwood shifted and lit yet another cigarette. He grinned at him. “I think you’re wanted, Lightning.”

Vash made a face. “He’s just like that. You get used to him.” He looked down the road to the main part of the town, at the few people actually out on the streets. “You can come with us, you know. To the ship. They’ll take you on board, no questions.”

“Me? On one of those things? I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” Marlon laughed. “I’ll be just fine right here.”

“But what if the Plant goes?” Knives wasn’t headed this way yet, but….

Marlon shrugged. “Then I wouldn’t have anything to come back to afterwards anyway, would I?”

“Marlon!” What the hell kind of attitude was that anyway? “But you’re brilliant! You could easily set up somewhere else once everything’s settled.” He wouldn’t tell him about the ships from Earth. It was better not to get people’s hopes up, just in case.

“Wouldn’t be the same though, would it? Besides, I figure things are gonna work out. I got faith in you, Lightning. You’ll do okay.”

And he knew Marlon meant well, was only trying to be supportive, but here was someone else pinning everything onto him, and he could do without all the reminders that he just didn’t have a clue. 

He forced a smile. No real point in arguing it further, Marlon could be just as stubborn as Wolfwood once he got an idea in his head. “Thanks, Marlon.” He started to walk away, turned back to call over his shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Damn right you will!” Marlon grinned and waved after him as he headed back to the car, where Wolfwood stood waiting.

*****

They sat in the central lounge as they stripped and cleaned the guns of powder residue and sand. It was one of the few places where they wouldn’t be in the way of the ship’s crew and that was big enough for Wolfwood to spread out all the pieces of the punisher. It had been hellish in hotel rooms sometimes, with no place to lay the damn thing out other than across the beds, getting gun oil and dirt all over the sheets. Vash had bitched more than once about how he had to sleep in a bed that smelled like a car mechanic’s garage just because Wolfwood needed a gun big enough to match his ego.

Now he replaced the final components of his gun arm, eyed the marks on the floor where Wolfwood had reassembled the cross, and figured everyone would just have to live with it. 

It didn’t seem like it would bother too many people anyway. There’d been surprisingly few people in and out all the time they’d been here; mainly they’d had the place to themselves. Most of the inhabitants were busy working on the Knives problem from one angle or another, and those who weren’t were supporting those who were, everything from cooking to babysitting.

He watched Wolfwood finish wrapping the punisher, the familiar movements of his hands with cloth and straps producing that crazy-looking arrangement with the one snap-catch that released everything. Wolfwood had big hands, but they were so sure and light when he did this, almost delicate.

They’d moved like that on his body sometimes. Sometimes when it wasn’t so urgent, when it wasn’t all about the push and pull between them.

Which wasn’t all that often, he had to admit.

He rolled his sleeve back down over his arm and jumped to his feet, heading for the coffee machine by the wall. “You want one?” he called, not looking back. 

“No.” Wolfwood’s answer was short and sharp over that last snick as he locked the catch. 

Vash almost felt like sticking his tongue out as he studied the buttons, he really did. “I won’t ask next time.”

No reply to that, just a slight rustle of movement and then nothing. Something tense about it that made him need to see and –

Wolfwood was looking at him. Really looking at him. Looking at him like – 

Yeah.

Oh, hell, yeah. So good to have Wolfwood, lips moving against his, tongue entering the mix as soon as he responded, pressing closer to feel Wolfwood’s body through the cloth, and, god, he’d really missed this. Missed the grittiness of sand in Wolfwood’s hair as he pushed his fingers through and held him there, missed the slight dryness of his lips and the luxury of kissing someone his own height so he didn’t get a crick in his neck, even missed the smell of gunpowder on Wolfwood’s skin and the taste of cigarettes against his tongue, and damn, it was funny the things you could get to like when they came attached to seriously good sex.

Wolfwood broke the kiss to look at him, still right there up against him. “Yeah, that’s about what I thought.”

Vash stared back in confusion. “What’s what you thought?”

“You, being an idiot as usual.”

“Hey!”

“Ever since I woke up on the floating torture chamber, you haven’t showed one bit of interest!”

“You were injured!” 

“And of course that should stop everything dead!”

“But you…” Vash thought about that one a bit more. Okay, even if Wolfwood hadn’t been up to a bout of athletic sex, maybe a blow job wouldn’t have been totally out of the question the last couple of days. It was still damn unfair to blame it all on him though! “But you didn’t offer either!” he picked up smoothly. 

“I would have done if you’d looked interested!”

“That goes both ways, don’t you think?”

“I wasn’t the one who had his brain picked at for half a year,” Wolfwood said darkly, and Vash guessed he might have had some concerns on that score too, and there were a whole lot of things he could have said, but the most important one was -

“Wolfwood, why are we standing here arguing over why we aren’t having sex?”

Wolfwood paused for a moment. “Because you’re goddamn irritating,” he offered as a parting shot. And Vash let him have it, because his mouth on Wolfwood’s was so much better, the press of a hand sliding down his back towards his butt more invigorating than their most energetic fights. 

His hand on Wolfwood’s hip, pulling him closer, coarse weave of denim over familiar tight lines. Wolfwood’s lips fierce against his, the slick heat of his mouth open to him, too much tongue and teeth as they both pushed for more, finesse losing out to just how much he wanted, cock already so hard as he shifted slowly against him, his own body feeding off the obvious hunger in Wolfwood. Faint hum of the ship around him, rustle of clothes by his ear as Wolfwood’s hand gripped at his shoulder, and -

A soft hiss as the door began to slide open, both men turning instantly to look, Vash’s hand sliding automatically towards the gun he was still wearing. His other hand stayed on Wolfwood’s thigh, registering the change in his body, the tension that shot through the muscles beneath the cloth.

A teenage boy stood in the doorway, thin brown hair hanging down to his eyes, his mouth half-open. Vash ran through the faces in his mind, coming up with the name almost instantly. “Hi, Jason,” he called out cheerfully. He felt Wolfwood relax again beneath his hand, soft exhale of air past his ear.

They’d never talked about this, hadn’t been around people enough those few weeks to worry about whether it was going to be a public thing. 

Wolfwood hadn’t pulled back, still standing close, obviously close. Vash liked that, yeah; he found he liked that a lot.

“Uh, hi, Mister Vash.” The kid finally spoke up, eyes flicking between the two of them. “Uh, I was just… uh, nothing, uh, sorry.”

“Hey, no problem! It’s a public place, we’re not in your way.” Vash gave his most inoffensive grin, but the kid just flushed deeper. 

“I’ll, uh, later, yeah, come back later.” Jason turned and fled.

Wolfwood was still watching the door as it closed again behind him. “Hope you’re ready for the gossip about your sex life, Tongari.”

Vash shrugged, uncaring. “Half of them thought we were lovers the last time we were here.”

Wolfwood’s head swung back around to stare at him. “What the hell did you do to make them think that?”

Vash was about to protest, and then he actually considered that angle for a moment. “Well, I guess I did bring you here.”

“That’s it?”

“I never brought anyone else. But the rest of it I think they got from you.”

“Me?! What did I do?”

“It might be the way you crashed dinner when Jessica invited me.”

“Well, so did Brad!”

Vash grinned. “Exactly.” Damn, Wolfwood looked gorgeous when he was confused. Something in the way his eyes widened and his nose wrinkled took the edges and the years away from him.

“I was just hungry! The only one who thought you had any interest in that girl was her!” Wolfwood’s expression switched to vaguely rueful. “Sweet kid, hope she’s not too upset.”

“She won’t be.” Wolfwood just looked curious, so Vash gave him the rest of it. “I think she heard the rumours by the time we left.”

“Even Jessica thought we were fucking?” Wolfwood shook his head. “Shit, no wonder I didn’t get laid. The wounded hero bit normally sucks ‘em in, but nobody was showing an interest.”

There, again, just briefly, that slithering queasiness creeping through him, his eyes narrowing reflexively. Vash pushed the sensation aside, tightened his grip on Wolfwood’s hip. “Well, you’ve got no complaints this time, because you’re getting laid right now.” Pressing his lips to Wolfwood’s, push of his tongue to emphasise his words, and, yeah, that got rid of the last of that unpleasantness in his gut as Wolfwood shifted against him and responded, left him with no feeling but the wanting. 

Right now he wanted to get Wolfwood away from anywhere public.

He drew back with a quick grin. “So, your place or mine?”

“Mine’s still a hospital ward, so it’s yours unless you want an audience.”

Vash had made a point of knowing where Wolfwood was the last couple of nights, but he hadn’t realised - “You don’t have a room yet?”

“They won’t give me one.” Wolfwood’s eyes slanted in annoyance. “They’re making sure I go back so they can prod at me some more.”

Vash figured Luida was behind that decision. If it had just been the medical staff, Wolfwood would have bullied his way through them inside a day. He laughed. “I’m surprised you didn’t just break in and claim one.”

“Thought about it.” Wolfwood didn’t sound like he was kidding. “But then I wouldn’t be able to fix the damn lock. It’s not like you can just stick a chair under the door handle around here.”

“You could have asked. I can hack every lock on the ship.”

Oh, that surprised him all right. “You can?”

Vash grinned. “I grew up on one of these. What do you think genius kids do when they’re bored?”

Wolfwood just rolled his eyes at that. “If I’d ever seen any sign that you were a goddamn genius, Tongari, I might have asked.”

“Oh, hell, don’t start,” he muttered, and shifted in to kiss Wolfwood again, because really the only ways to shut him up were to give in or to distract him. And while distracting him sometimes took a bit more effort, it was a lot more fun.

This was obviously one of the times when Wolfwood was willing to be distracted, though, because there was no effort to dislodge him, just the warm slide of lips over his and the right amount of tongue to feel good instead of annoying. Slow, subtle movement of their hips developing as the kissing continued, Wolfwood’s hand pressing up beneath his jumper now and onto his skin, but there was still something niggling at the back of his brain, like maybe how they were still in the damn public lounge. He really wasn’t willing to be found necking twice in one day because it had thankfully been several decades since the last time and he could live without getting a reputation for that too.

He lifted his mouth from Wolfwood’s just far enough to speak. “Hey, I thought we were going somewhere else?”

“Right. Yeah.” Wolfwood’s voice husky and clipped, breath warm on his skin. And it was all his suggestion, but still that sense of loss was there as Wolfwood pulled away from him, that need to draw him right back against him. 

Wolfwood picked up the newly-wrapped cross and looked back at him. “You know where we’re going,” he pointed out, still with that edge to his voice that broadcast straight to Vash’s cock. Damn.

“Yeah,” he said, walking past Wolfwood to the door, ignoring the very real urge to move in on him again and just push him down to the floor. “Come on.”

It wasn’t such a long way to his room, since the living accommodation was all in one part of the ship away from the technical areas and the cryo units. But there were people in the corridors and he had to smile and make brief small talk. Some of them were looking at him and Wolfwood in a smugly patronising way, and he got to wondering just how many people Jason could have talked to in under ten minutes. He made a point of keeping a respectable distance between himself and Wolfwood to minimise those looks, and that just felt plain weird, leaving him with the odd realisation that he’d probably been standing a bit too close to Wolfwood long before they actually got around to the having sex part.

He made another point of avoiding looking at Wolfwood, because he’d either be getting really pissed off with this or smirking at the way he was acting, and Vash wasn’t really in the mood for either reaction.

“Tell Marion I’ll be over to visit,” he smiled over his shoulder, finally getting rid of his last hanger-on and slamming his hand onto the pad by his door. It slid open softly as Wolfwood moved right up behind him to follow him in.

Wolfwood slung the punisher into the corner and had Vash up against the wall before the door even finished closing. Heated lips against his, hard, demanding, the push of Wolfwood’s erection as he slid in close, and this was what he wanted, oh yeah, this was exactly what he wanted.

He wriggled a hand between their bodies, easing off the pressure against him and slowing the kiss. Making it into something lighter, softer, loving the resistance as Wolfwood pushed back, fighting to take control, to make it what he wanted.

Vash grinned into the kiss, deliberately changing the angle of his mouth and keeping it sweet.

“Shit, Tongari, will you quit that?”

“Quit what?” Innocent tone sure to provoke a reaction.

Wolfwood glared into his eyes from inches away. “Being a goddamn tease!”

Vash smiled wider. “You want something, huh?”

“Oh, Jesus, I had to catch you in this mood, didn’t I?”

“You put me in this mood by being an annoying bastard, so now you just get to suck it up,” he said cheerfully.

“I’d rather suck on you.” Wolfwood’s hand was at his groin, already working on the buttons, pressure changing as his fingers moved. Vash fought hard not to push into it.

He tilted his head for a moment, as if considering. Stared right back into determined dark eyes. “Hmm, maybe later, after I screw you.”

“Not a chance.” Wolfwood’s reply was immediate and inflexible. “It’s my turn.”

“Your turn?! What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Wolfwood leaning a little more of his weight in, trying to pin him, “that it’s been a long time since I fucked you and I intend to fix that.”

Vash pushed off from the wall, wriggling down and sideways, and while it did stop Wolfwood getting him completely trapped, it also pressed his cock into Wolfwood’s hand. And in some ways that was, yeah, a really good thing, but it wasn’t doing much for his concentration. “That makes no sense at all! It’s been just as long for me!”

“I actually remember how long it’s been.” Wolfwood was shifting in the same direction, but obviously not using his full weight, more from his shoulder than his chest. Yeah, those injuries still had to be sore, however fast he healed.

“Not relevant! So my brain’s a little fuzzy on the details, my cock still knows damn well it’s overdue.” Quick push into Wolfwood’s hand, making his point on just how keen his dick was, shivery rush along his nerves, the touch and the smell of Wolfwood right here, close, god, but also a grin on Wolfwood’s face at what he thought was weakness. Vash exploited that reluctance to really press into him, sliding out and away from the wall.

Wolfwood’s smile was a little less cocky after that, but he still had his hand at Vash’s groin. “I’ve got other reasons it’s my turn.”

“Like what?” He really should back away from those fingers sliding easily inside his jeans, but they were so….

“Like you fucked me after we left Colorado.”

The last time they had sex, before…. Yeah, he remembered that. Wolfwood shuddering beneath him, sweat-soaked in the evening sun, god, he remembered. But - “That was seven months ago!”

“So?”

Vash was still getting his head round this one. “You’re keeping score from seven months ago?”

“Have to with a sneaky bastard like you,” Wolfwood pointed out amicably.

He was going to lose. He was starting to get too wound up in every way and Wolfwood was still having fun playing with him, and that pattern always meant the same thing, whichever one of them was doing the caving.

Screw it. If he was going to lose anyway, he may as well make it sooner and enjoy the sex. God, he wanted to get off. He’d get Wolfwood later, get him exactly how he wanted him and make him pay for this one…. “Okay, okay, it’s your turn!” Stepping closer, right in Wolfwood’s face and pushing into his hand. “Now do we get to fuck?” Using the profanity deliberately, liking the way Wolfwood’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

Wolfwood grinned at him and took his hand off his cock. “Yeah. But there’s been a slight change of plan.”

“Huh?”

“Could be I’m not up to a real high-energy fuck yet, after all. I think you better do the hard work.”

Vash blinked and then glared as he got the point. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“And it drives you crazy,” Wolfwood agreed with a quick grin.

That almost sounded like a challenge, Vash thought, sliding one leg alongside Wolfwood’s. Oh, they’d see who was driven crazy, but he wasn’t stupid enough to say that out loud at this point when he finally had Wolfwood pretty much where he wanted him. Which was up against the wall, hand on Wolfwood’s erection through the cloth, distinct spike of pleasure at the reversal of their positions.

But, yeah, this was something else he remembered too. The protests and the bickering were part of the routine, but somehow, at the end of it, Wolfwood always agreed to whatever Vash really needed. He wondered just what it was that gave him away.

Kissing him again, soft and slow like he’d wanted it, Wolfwood going along with it now, their breathing the only harsh edge to what was all about the pleasure and the anticipation. And this thing between them was more than sex and nothing like romance, and whatever it was, was just so damn good, feeling Wolfwood hard beneath his hand, wanting him, keeping his touches light through the cloth. So good to have him back, to have him here, right here. He hooked his arm around Wolfwood and tugged him closer.

Wolfwood hissed, soft and short. “Watch it, Tongari!”

“Sorry.” Vash slid his hand lower, away from the wounds. It wasn’t like he needed an excuse to run his hand over Wolfwood’s ass, his fingers following the curve appreciatively. But he liked it better without the denim in the way, and yeah, maybe Wolfwood had the right kind of idea earlier. 

Last slow meld of lips and tongue as he tugged at Wolfwood’s fly, dropping to his knees and pulling the trousers and underwear down over his hips, along his thighs and lower, Wolfwood toeing off his shoes and kicking his clothes from his ankles. Vash’s hands on Wolfwood’s skin, warm, fingers spread wide and brushing upwards over hard lines of muscle and bone. Hair changing as his hands travelled, becoming coarser as he moved from thighs towards the heat at his groin, leaning closer, and god, the smell, of Wolfwood and sex….

Wolfwood’s cock in his mouth, his tongue flicking round the head, his hand working the base, unhurried and steady. Other hand stroking at his balls and back towards his ass, the hitch of Wolfwood’s breath above him, distinctive salt taste of precome, every sense reaching for what had become so familiar, so wanted, so tied in with his body’s own desires. Wolfwood pushing for more, Vash opening to let him, cock sliding deeper across his tongue as his throat worked, fingers threaded into his hair, and damn, too fast, too fast, this wasn’t going the way he’d planned it at all. He clamped down on the urgency, drawing back, swallowing hard with all the saliva.

“For Christ’s sake, don’t stop!” Wolfwood looking down at him, flushed and demanding, hair fallen forwards to shadow his eyes, but Vash knew exactly how they would look.

He wanted Wolfwood - god, wanted him every way he could get him, and right now - but this was going to be all about Wolfwood. About making Wolfwood want him, making Wolfwood need him, making sure that Wolfwood didn’t talk any more about fucking other people in that casual way that made his gut clench and crawl….

He grinned upwards. “Later.”

He sprang to his feet, going right back to Wolfwood’s mouth just to make sure he couldn’t complain any more. He still kept it slow, needing to put a check on his own body’s lust as well as Wolfwood’s, but it was so different from before. Different with the wetness of his lips and the taste of Wolfwood still on his tongue, with the increased heat of Wolfwood’s skin beneath his hand and the heightened smell of sweat. Different with the way Wolfwood curved into his body and ran his tongue along his lips, different in a way that was nothing to do with pace or pressure, and everything to do with the burning tension along his nerves and the knowledge in his head that this was his to finish whenever he wanted. And he wasn’t going to let this go again, not ever so long as he had any choice in it, because this was just too perfect, the smoky heat of Wolfwood’s mouth the best thing in his life by about a century.

Wolfwood was breathing harder now, slight tremor in the muscles of his leg beneath Vash’s hand. Probably because Vash had been sucking on his cock, but still he had a nagging concern over how well he’d really recovered from his injuries. “Get over here,” Vash ordered with a grin, tugging Wolfwood away from the wall, pushing him down to kneel by the bed, facing it so he could rest against it if he needed to. Wolfwood offered no resistance, willing to play along with him for once thankfully, because he really hadn’t wanted to argue this one out.

“What are you planning?” Suspicion edging Wolfwood’s voice, but he stayed put. For now, at least.

“Nothing, I swear!” Stripping himself rapidly, polo neck pulled off easily, jeans already undone from earlier.

“The more you swear, the less I trust you,” Wolfwood muttered, just loud enough to be sure he’d hear.

He settled himself on his knees close behind Wolfwood, breathing across the back of his neck. “That’s uncalled for,” he protested mildly, reaching around Wolfwood to unbutton his shirt. Normally he would have added some teeth to that remark with Wolfwood’s neck right there, but then Wolfwood would have elbowed him in the gut, and he wasn’t going to start a physical brawl right now, not when he couldn’t win it for fear of hurting him.

“Okay, now I know you’re up to something.” Wolfwood turned his head to watch him from the corner of his eye. 

Vash grinned at him and looked deliberately innocent. “Nothing you won’t like.” His fingers moved lightly over heated skin and fine hair as the shirt opened, working his way down Wolfwood’s chest. Wolfwood’s eyes narrowed right on cue.

“Tell me or I’ll stop this until you do!” Not that Wolfwood made any move to stop him as he pushed his hands down Wolfwood’s arms, sliding the shirt from his body.

All the fun in baiting Wolfwood was instantly ripped away.

He traced his hands softly over Wolfwood’s back, avoiding the livid red scars staring at him where the bullets had gone right through. Halo of angry, inflamed skin around each one, smaller scars nearby where the surgical ‘scopes had gone in. God. Wolfwood’s skin had been near perfect, just a couple of faded bullet marks, years old, and the more recent one on his left arm. 

“You can quit thinking right now, Tongari!”

“Huh?” Vash lifted his head, found Wolfwood twisted around to glare at him over one shoulder.

“I can damn well hear you thinking, and you should keep on doing instead.”

Vash realised his hands had stilled, gripping tightly on Wolfwood’s shoulders. “Yeah, sorry.” Looked down at Wolfwood again, stroking his fingers along the unmarked flesh of his shoulders. At least he hadn’t had to suffer under the planet’s surgeons – they would have carved him open like a slab of meat. 

He squashed the thought and dipped his head, mouth working along the back of Wolfwood’s neck, dark hair tickling at his nose. The hospital stench all gone now, only the familiar Wolfwood smells of cigarettes, sweat and desert dust, salt and faint nicotine bitterness on his tongue equally welcome. He freed the cuffs of Wolfwood’s shirt from his arms and tossed it aside; pushed his body forwards into him, the contact light and sweet against him, careful not to press too hard on wounded flesh. The mass of Wolfwood’s hair was slightly coarse against his cheek as he licked down onto one shoulder, skin so warm and good against his chest, beneath his touch. 

Wolfwood relaxed back into him, easy and natural, and Vash concentrated a light thread of energy down into his right hand, a little more heat, a little more bioelectricity to increase the stimulation of nerves as he stroked across his chest. Wolfwood shivered and arched into the touch. “Yeah, ‘s good,” he muttered, soft voice with harsh edges that sent anticipation coiling all through Vash like a flare. He grinned into Wolfwood’s shoulder, increasing the power flow around his mouth until his lips tingled softly against the flesh as he kissed it. Wolfwood shuddered against him in reaction. “Yeah, more.” Louder this time, demanding, and Vash only too happy to oblige, loving how easily he could get Wolfwood’s body to respond to him. 

He slid his left hand slowly up along Wolfwood’s thigh, rough beneath his fingers as they pushed against the growth of the hair. There wasn’t much he could do with that hand, just a little extra heat conducted down – anything more would fry the circuits, and he really wasn’t sure about the ammo – but it wasn’t needed here, where Wolfwood was so sensitive to his touch anyway, pressing up into his hand with a soft exclamation. Tightening his grip on his damp cock, trailing fingers that rippled with power slow across his nipple, and Wolfwood jerked against him. “Fuck, Tongari!”

Vash brushed his lips across his ear, soft transfer of energy at the contact. “Yeah, right now,” he breathed lazily. Slithering temptation inside him to keep this going, to push up against the boundaries of this power that he and Wolfwood had established before. Desire burning deep and dark to drive Wolfwood further, until he writhed and begged, and knowing he could do it. 

Knowing he wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t even go close to those limits with Wolfwood’s body damaged and aching. Later, sometime – later, with his knowledge and consent, he’d do it, find out just how badly he could make Wolfwood need him….

For now, he drew back enough to reach for the lubricant he’d stashed in the drawer by his bed, Wolfwood swaying after him and resting his head back against his shoulder. Sudden teasing touch of fingers along his cock making his hand jerk, smacking his knuckles against the edge of the polymer. Wolfwood’s head turned to grin up at him, eyes slanted and calculating as the stroking continued. 

Vash made a face and felt for the tube again. “You’ll get yours sooner if you don’t do that,” he said, but didn’t remove the hand from his body, the easy glide along his neglected cock too damn good to give up. There really was a limit to how much he could hold back on his own need for Wolfwood, and right now it felt like that line was passed hours back… maybe years back, god.

His fingers groped blindly inside the drawer, his eyes fixed on Wolfwood sprawled against him with that lazy smile that was all about the sex. So hot, gorgeous, damn, and just how big could this drawer be anyway? There, finally, the curve of plastic beneath his touch. He gripped the tube tight as his cock jerked, frustration in the shrewdly playful contact it was currently getting. His hands went back to Wolfwood’s shoulders pushing him forwards again to kneel with his chest resting across the bed, and he’d planned to keep this going, the game, the tease, but there was just no damn way, that thought falling apart the second Wolfwood had turned that look on him.

Lube slick on his hand, sharp spike of energy to warm it, two fingers working deep into Wolfwood’s body, so tight and sweet, knowing just how that heat was going to feel around his cock. Wolfwood’s head dropping forward, hissing softly into the covers as his body arched into it, pushing down onto his hand, Vash watching the vicious wounds across his back shift and stretch as his spine flexed, deliberately using the flash of absolute fury as a distraction, as a check on his own lust.

This wasn’t how he wanted it – he wanted to see Wolfwood’s eyes as he pushed in, to watch his face as he fucked him, as he came. Wanted to see Wolfwood remember just how good this thing between them was. But this way was easier for Wolfwood, a more natural position that wouldn’t strain torn muscle. What had been done to this man, livid scars on that amazing body that he touched….

“Fuck, yeah.” Sharp mutterings against the blanket, Wolfwood taking deep, panting breaths, less resistance now as Wolfwood moved against him, working his cock against the bed as he shifted. Vash using his fingers more, stretching gently, Wolfwood already in pain and he wouldn’t hurt him more…. “For Christ’s sake, Tongari, stop playing around!”  
Harsh, clipped voice, words that flipped him right back into the needing, the pulse-ache of his cock reasserting itself in his brain.

More lube, slick and warm on his cock, and then he was pushing into Wolfwood – steady, careful, please, careful – muscles beneath his hand tight with lust and not locking in pain, sliding, sliding, all so fucking perfect in the way they fit together, and he was, he was….

Stop. Wait. Breathe. Think of… of… thomases, all furry and stinking, yeah. Not the damp hairs that curled slightly at the back of Wolfwood’s neck, not the sex and sweat in the air he sucked in so hard, and definitely, definitely not the tight, tight heat around his cock and, god, he was going to have to move now….

His right hand was still oiled with lube, pushed between the bedclothes and the skin of Wolfwood’s thigh to his erection, sending the faintest tickle of energy through to get that addictive jerk of response as he gripped, that one, yeah, short whistled exhale from the man beneath him. Slow, steady rhythm of himself in Wolfwood and Wolfwood in his hand, sweat building between them where hips met, where knees and shins pressed together, and this was something he was good at, so easy to get right, pocket of energy coiling tight within him as he moved, closer, closer, wait, now, soft heat and tingle of energy flashing through his fingers direct to Wolfwood’s cock and balls -

Wolfwood hitching and tensing and shuddering beneath him, around him, just as his own orgasm crashed through his body, perfect, perfect, so fucking amazing this, every time….

Panting harshness of his own breaths, Wolfwood’s ribcage moving with not-quite-rhythm beneath his hand. Hum of the ship around him and Wolfwood here with him as his cock started to soften. Losing the tightness, but still the contact of skin, of shared sweat.

He resisted the urge to simply lie forward against Wolfwood, the glaring injuries on his body too obviously still painful. Rolled sideways instead to sit on the floor beside him, his ribs resting against the bed and his hand reaching out to Wolfwood’s hair, sweat-damp at his temple. No protest from Wolfwood, no smart-ass comment about him being mawkish, just dark eyes turned to watch him and for a moment there everything about this felt.…

Wolfwood looked away, wriggled around to sit alongside him, leaning over to rescue his shirt from the floor, and inevitably, his cigarettes. He settled back close, shift of his arm against Vash’s as he struck the match and sighed out the first stream of smoke. “Damn, I’d almost forgotten how much fun you are.” Wolfwood smiling at him with that brief, genuine happiness that made him somehow look so achingly young. Young like that guy on the bus.

He smiled back, serious. “I hadn’t.”

Wolfwood replaced the dead match in the box, and when he looked up again something had shifted, become jaded again despite the widening grin. “Some of us don’t have your genius infallible memory.” He flexed one leg, rubbing at the knee with his free hand. “Next time we’re damn well using the bed.”

“Only if you don’t make a point of yanking my chain first.”

Wolfwood made a huffing sound that was half a laugh. “Oh, if only people knew.”

So obviously bait, but he had to ask anyway. “Knew what?”

“All that talk of sweetness and light and you’re just as vindictive as the rest of us, Tongari.”

“That’s your fault.”

“MY fault? How the hell do you figure that?”

Vash grinned. “I have to be to keep you even close to liveable with.”

Something flickered in Wolfwood’s face then, an expression gone so fast before he dragged on his cigarette and laughed out the smoke. “That’s good coming from you. You ought to try being a mere mortal and keeping up with Vash the Stampede.”

Vash rolled his eyes. “Mere mortal, my ass.” 

Wolfwood shrugged. “So I had some help. You’re still damn hard work.” He stuck the cigarette between his teeth and scrambled to his feet. “Lean forward.” Wolfwood’s finger prodded hard at his shoulder for emphasis.

“All right, all right! No need for violence!”

Wolfwood muttered something that he doubted was complimentary under his breath, reached across and pulled the soiled cover from the bed, wiping himself off and leaving it in a heap on the floor. Settled carefully back onto Vash’s bed, the direct light from above making the bullet scars across his chest and stomach so much more obvious. Smaller than the exit wounds, but more of them, angry red circles scattered across dark skin. God.

Wolfwood leaned across and swatted him round the head. “You gonna stay there all day?”

“Ow, that hurts!” He rubbed a hand ruefully through his hair, decided he was way too relaxed now to start a fight. He slithered up from the floor and sprawled himself alongside Wolfwood, who’d flopped right back again, staring up at the ceiling as he smoked. The cigarette was back in his hand now, resting on the sheets by his head between inhales.

Damn, he really hated that. One of these days Wolfwood was going to set fire to the bed with them in it, but it was a detail Vash had learned not to argue. Wolfwood tilted his head slightly, peering at him through slanted eyes. “You look about twelve when you pout.”

“I am not pouting!”

Quick, wicked grin. “Not now you’re not, no. Now you look pissed.”

“I’m not pissed either! I’m… insulted,” he decided.

“Whatever you are, it looks good.” Wolfwood leaned over to kiss him. No urgency now, just slow and drowsy and sweet. And this was something he liked and hadn’t done that much because Wolfwood mostly just fell asleep. 

He’d have liked it more if he hadn’t been wondering whether Wolfwood still had hold of the cigarette.

Lips soft and warm against his. Wolfwood and sex in his head, in the air, in the damp, cooling skin beneath his fingers. 

Damn, this was nice.

And temporary, like everything good. Everything that was crappy about his life was still waiting for him. Tomorrow he’d have to think about Knives. 

For the rest of today, he wasn’t going to think about anything. Not even where the damn cigarette was.

Just so long as it wasn’t in the hand in his hair.

*****

Vash woke later than usual, sleep-sated and languid. The ship hummed around him, soft and familiar, the mental vibration from the Plants comforting at the edge of his mind when he felt for it. He reached out lazily for Wolfwood. His arm found only empty sheets, long cold.

Unpleasant jab of thought in his head, and he rolled up onto one elbow, frowning. A single glance across the room at the corner and, yeah, the newly-rebuilt punisher was gone too.

Shit.

He’d really thought…. 

He’d been a goddamn idiot.

Wolfwood didn’t owe him anything. Once, maybe, for the lies, the deliberate deceit, but not any more. The man was free to go, and so he’d gone.

He should have seen it. He cast his mind back over the sex, and maybe Wolfwood had been a little… intense, but he’d put that down to the long absence and never guessed he was getting a goodbye fuck.

He sat up on the edge of the bed, looking out from underneath his hair at his room. Not that there was a whole lot to look at. The white walls, the plain furniture, the shelves and cupboards mostly empty. He had his gun on the table and boxes of heavy ammo stacked in the corner. His home on and off for close to a century, and there was none of the clutter here that everyone else seemed to fill their rooms with. Pictures, ornaments, books, all that kind of stuff swamped everyone else’s rooms, not his. 

He remembered another morning, almost two years ago now, when he’d sat here and thought about not seeing Wolfwood again. Last time, he’d been the one to walk away, but Wolfwood had known it was coming and had been waiting for him.

That was the real answer to Wolfwood’s question, of course. Why the rumours about them had started back then. It was because Wolfwood had known he was going to ditch him, and had practically glued himself to him the entire time they were here. And maybe it was because he’d been ordered to, and maybe it was because he’d wanted to, and right now he really didn’t give a shit which. Just that he had.

Why hadn’t he known? 

Wolfwood had always read him so easily, right from the start when he’d played him like a roped thomas. So how come he still managed to be so goddamn blind when it came to Wolfwood?

He wondered briefly where Wolfwood would have gone. There was only one obvious answer. Wolfwood only ever spoke of one place with any affection. The one part of his life he spoke of at all, really. And when he did, the lines around his eyes softened, and Vash caught a glimpse of someone that Wolfwood might have been, given the chance.  
But this world didn’t give many people chances. Wolfwood would have gone back to his kids, and Vash really couldn’t blame him for it, not with the planet going to hell the way it was. The orphanage was all he had.

Knives knew all about it too. He had to. 

There was a moment beneath the shock of realization that was almost relief, because Wolfwood hadn’t just left him because he wanted to, not because he didn’t matter enough to stay….

And then the rush of sickening horror, and oh god, Wolfwood, the kids, because Knives hated Wolfwood now, would never let him get away, not after he’d freed Vash. And whatever Wolfwood was walking into would be way more than he could deal with, and why, why the hell hadn’t he asked him for help?

How could he not have seen it? He’d been so tangled up in what Knives was doing to the planet, and how he might stop him, and so wrapped up in the sheer relief of just having Wolfwood around, he hadn’t ever given a thought to what Knives would do to Wolfwood personally. And Wolfwood had been so damn quiet and moody, and Vash had thought it was all down to the pain. God, he’d thought he’d been a fool when he’d first woken up just now, but he’d been more than that, he’d been a completely self-absorbed fucking moron.

He jumped out of bed, grabbed the box that was sitting in the cupboard and began wriggling into his clothes. Not the jeans and sweater he wore around the ship, but the black leathers that Jessica had left there for him.

He had no clue what to do about Knives and his systematic destruction of the planet, about the fact that every day he did nothing, Knives collected more of the Plants and left behind only desert, about the columns of fleeing refugees looking for a safety that wasn’t there. He’d tried fighting Knives and he’d failed. How could he possibly defeat Knives now, when he had the power of over a hundred Plants to draw on? 

And if he’d actually needed to make a decision which to choose, which goal to go chasing after, he wouldn’t already be pulling on yet another new red coat over his gun.  
He didn’t know if he could save the planet. 

He knew he could save Wolfwood.

As always, he would simply do what he could.


End file.
